


Onto season 5, wouldn’t mind more of thisss!
I don’t see women as catty and competitive all the time. Women work a whole lot better as teammates than enemies. We really do.
(via dohrings)
“I can see Pakistan from his eyes, and I know the newspaper images that fuel Pakistan-bashing. I know the minefields of personal sorrow and betrayal that don’t make it to newspapers. I also know a Pakistan beneath these images that is rich with extraordinary possibilities, in which I made friends from whom I could ask more after a month of knowing them then I could ask of people I’ve known here for years. That place is unlike anywhere else on earth. I walk back to my apartment and realize that for the first time, words that would once have bruised are easy to dust off and walk away from. It’s as though Pakistan has sent me back with something that remains, like the place, difficult to translate but that acts slowly on my silence, thinning it when necessary, and giving me words when needed. It’s only love. Nothing can mend with such precision.”
Um. Okay. Yeah.
I do think there are a great portion of American cis-men who like to pick and choose those parts of gender equality that make their lives easiest and adhere to those only.
For example: She wants to pay for dinner? AWESOME. I can keep my seat on this packed train? FANTASTIC. She wants to have sex four times a night and not hear the word “slut.” GORGEOUS. She wants to be paid what I earn and be treated with respect in the military and go out drinking without worrying about sexual assault? SHUT UP THAT WHINE.
Here’s my deal: Until I’m clear that a cis-man really does see me as his equal, I’m just going to look at his cherry-picking “feminism” as manipulative laziness.
JerseyGrrrl on jezebel. So, so, so, so true. (via shortbreadsh)
Preeeeetttty much how I feel about some male-feminists.
(via genderfuked)
(via thefemcritique)
It is Shondas’ M.O.
Season 7, Season 4, Season 2, Season 3
The evidence is all there, this will all be nothing in a few episodes.
This show is rubbish at sticking to and developing plotlines -_-
FOCUS RHIMES.
Happen already.

Universe
Marvel UniverseReal Name
Sooraya QadirAliases
Turaab (Dust in Arabic)Identity
SecretCitizenship
Afghanistan, legal immigrant to the U.S.APlace of Birth
Unrevealed location in western AfghanistanFirst Appearance
New X-Men #133 (2002)Powers
Can transform her body into a living sandstorm
able to blind opponents or strip away fleshFiled under: Badass Muslim Women
(via maudlinsmile)
(via dohrings)
To recap: A confused nutcase made a movie about the Prophet in an attempt to do multiple things. First, to retell the story of Islam’s founder in a manner in keeping with his batshit crazy views about a religion followed by millions of people.
Second, to reduce those people to their faiths, to label them as one homogenous headscarved, veiled, bearded, desert-dwelling, backwards society, without distinct divisions of opinion, class, education, goals or beliefs. A faceless mob whose only experiences are anger and hate and whose belief system has remained stagnant for almost 1500 years.
Third, once grouped as one, to further label that group as violent and fanatical. 1.6 fucking billion people are supposedly militant or nearly militant, hateful and ready to fucking march on the western world on camels, wielding swords and bomb-strapped chests. Look at them. Fear them. Hate them. Get them or they’ll get you.
And finally, fourth, to “incite violence”, ie. to make the staggeringly safe bet that an insulting and hateful video about a stupendously large community will result in violence carried out by true fanatics, who are distressingly well-organized. This has the added bonus of throwing people back into your loop of crazy, where your premise that muslims are all the same and all violent, becomes the conclusion that look, muslims around the world are all the same and all violent.
All of this seriously pisses me off and it took me a while to pinpoint why.
Rose stared at him. “That landslide?” she said, her voice suddenly small. “That wasn’t an accident, was it?”
He shook his head. “She wanted to show me what she was capable of,” he said. He knew he shouldn’t, but he lifted his hand anyway and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “It nearly killed me when I thought she’d taken you away from me.”
Her eyes widened. “The heart attack? It was because of me?” She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Why, you asshole?”
“You know.”
She caught him by the lapels of his coat. “Say it,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “Tell me why.”
“I love you.”
The words hung in the air of the cabin, like dust motes caught in a beam of moonlight.